Today, Peet’s Coffee (oh glorious Peet’s how I savor thee) issued a statement which has drawn criticism from a particular few, namely – the Open-Carry ‘movement’. In short – people who are increasingly displaying presumably unloaded sidearms in public for the sake of displaying them. I believe their tenet is “a right not exercised is a right lost”, or something like that (I do however find it humorous that opencarry.org uses such fancy-speak as “Raison d’etre” on their frontpage). Yeah yeah yeah, there’s the Second Amendment, but there’s also the rights of a property owner to dictate what is, and is not, allowed on the premises (although the latter is not constitutional, it’s still a proper right). What’s sad to me is that little ole’ Peet’s deemed it necessary to issue a statement to keep these wing-nuts out of their stores, when it’s common sense that should keep anyone from flaunting their gun in a hippie-lovin’ coffee shop in the first place. Why flaunt a firearm? That’s nothing I can answer. Can you? Probably not. (Please note this isn’t an argument against gun ownership – I think guns are cool, I enjoy shooting, but they have their place). I wonder: “are these the same people who bring firearms to political rallies?” I suspect so. What are they afraid of? Surely it can’t be something as simple (or complex) as an exercise of the 2nd Amendment, right? There is something larger, something ever-more ominous and insidious dwelling within these people. The irony, from my viewpoint, is that these are predominately the same folks who are so afraid of a military state, while their actions create an air of just that. With rights come responsibility, jerks.

Oh, just Phelp yourself, a-hole:

Hey, guess who’s in town? Yup – followers of Fred Phelps, that anti-Semitic disbarred lawyer cum “pastor” from Kansas who parades around protesting against such things as homosexuality, dead soldiers, Swedes, Catholics, Minneapolis (according to him, MN is the “land of the Sodomite damned” – huh?), and just about anything that doesn’t fall squarely into his stunted world view. (Interestingly, his church has some 71 core members, 60 of whom are related to Fred. Can you say ‘cult’?) Anyhow, they were in town protesting our little Prop 8 hearing before stomping off to Texas for who-knows-what, returning to San Francisco to protest – get this: TWITTER! Now, I’m not a twitterer – but really, Fredfolk? I guess it’s better than what they put their poor children through on a regular basis. I can only hope this little guy can emerge even partially in-tact from the hell he’s unwittingly apart of. Would you want to explain to your children why that little boy is holding up a sign that says “God hates Fags”? I suspect not. It brings tears to my eyes.

Ding Ding Ding! I just had an idea! How about we get the open-carry folks to load their pieces with some silver hollow-points and have a showdown at sunset with the Phelpsians? That could solve a few problems: the planet is rid of these vile cult members and the courts can take care of the others! Sorry – that goes against my personal mission for tolerance. Never mind. Although, I have to say I appreciate the locals protesting the Phelps protest outside the Twitter HQ. [check out the photostream on flickr – good stuff]

Anyhow, is this the same ‘god’ that the Prop 8 supporters believe in? I suspect so.

No Props to 8:

As many of you know, I support & participate fully in the institution of Marriage, and believe that any two people, regardless of orientation, should be afforded its splendiforousness. Unfortunately, a mind-numbingly large segment of our denizens’ crotch-less panties and ass-less chaps are up in a bunch about two men, or two women – that being two people who LOVE one another, tying the knot. This is an issue that can be argued until our balls are blue – trust me, I know, but I’ve learned that those fielding opposing views are as closed-off to the concept of same-sex marriage as I am to the thought of denying it.

The one question I have time & time again asked is this: “how does the marriage of two people of the same gender affect your ‘traditional’ marriage?”

Do you know what? They fall flat on their face as they fumble and mumble something about it just being “wrong” or “it’s bad for the community” or more often than not, it is “against God’s will – the bible says so…” Yaddy Yaddy Yaddy.

More recently, I’ve heard a few people try to make a case of Marriage’s only real purpose being procreation. And here I thought it had something to do with love. Sorry – my bad. By this “logic”, there must be some pre-requisite that forbids any woman over the age of say, 51, from getting married on account of her child-bearing ability winding down, right? Au contraire! Obviously, there are other components to Marriage – and curiously, those who sit and bleat that it’s meant only for ‘one man and one woman’ are typically already married, with children, who may at this very moment have some horny Catholic priest (who knows nothing of marriage, really, except what he’s been told) making eyes with them. That’s another issue for another time though. Sorry to digress. Where was I? Oh, right…

I fail to see how a same-sex couples marriage can possibly degrade the traditionalists union (terminology swap intended), unless they’re in a closet with all sorts of leather-clad skeletons or dare I say, are bi-curious… Curiously,

Some of the people who are most outraged turn out to be consumers of the very things they claimed to be outraged by…

So says Benjamin Edelman of the Harvard Business Journal [article here]. He goes on to point out that:

Residents of 27 states that passed laws banning gay marriages boasted 11% more porn subscribers than states that don’t explicitly restrict gay marriage.

One of my discussions last year pretty much ended when a friend said he’d never let his children hang out with kids that had gay parents. No way, no how. Well, I lost a lot of respect for him in that moment, and if I had kids, trust me: I wouldn’t let them hang out with zealotsbigots holier-than-thou traditionalists – at least not once their kids were brainwashed. ‘They’ say same-sex parents are somehow “dangerous” or “harmful” to kids, all while studies debunk that hollow claim.

I’ve also asked them what they’d do if, at age 18, their son or daughter broke the news that they were, in fact, gay. The few that could even wrap their heads around the possibility just said “well, I’d still love them, but…..”

I’m sorry, you lost me at “but”.

Another stated that homo/bisexuals could possibly be “rehabilitated” (at and by their church, of course) and get back on a path towards ‘normalcy’. Not only does this show complete disregard to increasingly sound evidence that homosexuality is more about nature than nurture, it exemplifies the closed-mindedness and incapacity for acceptance (well, that’s not very ‘Christly’, now is it?) of our fellow women and men. Not to mention this key point: the “rehabilitation” strives to “make” the person heterosexual, and if (to be read: when) that doesn’t work, steer them towards celibacy. CELIBACY!!!! Wait a minute: I thought the goal here was to procreate. Can someone explain this to me? I didn’t think so.

Like I said, patently absurd are most arguments against same-sex marriage. You can see the fear in their eyes and hear it in their quivering voices. While I’ve got you, check out this finding, particularly the part that concludes:

Only the homophobic men showed an increase in penile erection to male homosexual stimuli.

What? The outrage! Shocking! Or is it?

Here is what I know: I’m having an increasingly difficult time respecting people who are so closed-minded as to think their way is the only way. And, I acknowledge that my liberal opinions may seem equal-parts closed to them… But, my brain and heart tell me to continue the dialogue, continue the questioning – even when the other side of the coin can’t seem to open their minds to the possibility of another way of life and living. My hope for them is they can come to terms with their fears, or whatever repressed issues they’ve not taken the time to confront.

I also know that personally, my traditional marriage would be absolutely enhanced if we could truly share the joy of what our legal and spiritual devotion to one another means with our dear friends who so happen to be with partners of the same gender. They aren’t ‘gay’ in my eyes – they are dear friends who I want nothing more for than happiness and freedom from persecution.

This is an expansive, gray world we live in, and the erosion thereof continues to occur at break-neck speed, all in the name of ideals. Ideals are just that – black and white and non-applicable to our global community. The sooner we all realize that, the sooner we can move on to more important things.

The past six or so months, or maybe it’s more like the past year and a half, has been a time of new digs… so why not jostle around the virtual residence of the g*log, too, right? I finally decided to migrate away from the clunky-by-comparison blogger.com, which admittedly served well – and over to wordpress. It’s all very exciting, I know. Actually, what motivated me was this damn cold I have – maybe it’s the fucking swine flu (which I have moved to rename The Oink), I don’t know. It feels like a nasty head cold to me, and nothing more.

I’m not dead yet, so that’s good. Now, where was I?

Oh, right – back to new digs… My last post indicated a corporate move, which actually went pretty well all things considered. When P and I moved to San Francisco, I rented an office down in Jackson Square – the historic epicenter of San Francisco proper – while the building was way cool, in a great little neighborhood, I couldn’t deal with the dramatics of subletting an office from someone in the “high-fashion” PR biz. While most of the time it was just fine, there was a triteness that I just couldn’t accept. Everything was a big deal – I was being over-charged for just about everything – from trash pickup to an alarm system that wasn’t actually monitored by ADT. The final straw was when the woman I was subletting the office from was going to increase my rent, because her rent was being increased… which is normal, right? Yes.. and no. You see, her rent was being increased because the owner of the building couldn’t stand her, so, ostensibly, I’d be paying a “service fee” because she was a pain in the ass. No thanks. That would have brought my per-square-foot cost up to $7.20, some five bucks higher than the current average per/sq-ft charge in downtown San Francisco. Time to keep on keepin’ on.

I found a great space though – the top floor of an old warehouse in the SoMa neighborhood – while the district itself isn’t nearly as enticing or pleasant to walk around, the price is very right, the space is very large, and it’s two miles closer to home, so my life-expectancy has increased as a direct result of cutting 2 miles of biking through the heart of downtown San Francisco on Market St. Here be some pictures:

main work area

lounge, dining area & workshop

I haven’t gotten off my ass to process more photos of the construction of the edit suite and all that, so deal with it!

Backing up further, P and I, after about six months of tirelessly looking at houses all over San Francisco, purchased our first home, right in the geographic center of the city in the Twin Peaks / Diamond Heights district. It’s a sweet little midcentury house, built in the mid-50’s and in fantastic condition, inside and out. We have a back yard, a driveway big enough for two cars, gardens, a garage, workshop, three bedrooms and all of the other normal house-stuff. There’s even a nice south-facing view and a ton of daylight from sunup to sundown. It’s nice to watch the fog swirling just one or two streets below us, while we have nothing but blue skies above, lots of trees around (it backs up to Twin Peaks Park), replete with redtail hawks, ravens, raccoons, and a family of skunky-ass skunks. Needless to say, we love it up here in our perch, some 800 feet above sea level. It’s quite, the neighbors are nice and it’s like living in the ‘burbs, but only in the center of the metropolis. Here be some photos:

dining room, looking into kitchen

the back yard… Stylish, eh?

Before that, we rented, for exactly one year, a 1 bedroom flat in Noe Valley in a pre-1900’s victorian. It was a cool neighborhood, right in betwixt Noe’s 24th St, the Mission, Twin Peaks, and the Castro districts. Convenient: yes, but it was a rental and the upstairs neighbors were excessively noisy, and they lit the deck on fire one day.

But, here we are, to stay for a while, I’d say. It’s nice to have a sense of permanency and a home in a city which we both just adore. Not a day goes by where I don’t think “well, shit.. I actually live here…”

Not the most exciting post, but it should get you up to basic speed on all the movin’ around and whatnot.

I have to go sneeze now. Buy stock in Kleenex – I’m using a lot of it.

I’m sitting here at the dining table at the new office, overlooking from the fourth floor the corners of 11th and Mission St in San Francisco, while the sheetrockers apply the first coat of mud in the edit suite. Seems that I only get around to posting something to ye olde g*log when there is literally nothing else to do. That being said, life has been full and fulfilling since I last posted, back whenever it was I posted something.

If you’re reading this, you likely already know that we bought a house here in the city, work has been going well (enough so to warrant moving into new office space downtown), and honestly, I couldn’t be more content. When I say ‘content’, I in no way mean ‘complacent’, San Francisco has been kind to us in the year and a half or more since our relocation from Boston, and there seems to never be a dull moment.

In the greater world, things seemingly couldn’t get any worse, and yet things have never been better, as we have a refreshing new face in the previously too-white house, with fresh ideas, an ability to speak to the world with respect and compassion and understanding that the views of the USA aren’t necessarily in line with everyone, and the courage to actually take some real risks to solve the foundation. Last night, over dinner with friends, I said that Obama is lifting the house up to build a new foundation under it, instead of simply patching the roof or replacing some plumbing.

It’s all very exciting.

I don’t really have anything in mind here, simply wanting to put some thoughts down and keep the g*log somewhat alive.

If you read this, leave a note in the comments section so I know that there is at least some viewership!

OK, I realize there is likely very limited readership here these days – need to start posting more, and I have been feeling the urge to write more lately…

Might as well start off with a Rant this morning.. and this is to be short and sweet.

One of the things that irks me the most about George W. Bush, is how he speaks – the man can barely form a proper sentence, and when he does (or as close-to as is possible), it’s filled with mispronunciations. OK, so the idiot has a pseudo-texas drawl – how charming and inline with “regular folks”. I’m sure it went a long way towards getting him elected.

I can barely listen to the man speak, opting instead for transcripts, because he is a bumbling, fumbling, arrogant buffoon who makes the rest of us “regular folks” look like idiots to the rest of the world. It’s embarrassing. You can’t deny that the opinion of Americans abroad has suffered immeasurably in the past eight years. If you do deny that fact, maybe it’s time to travel some and see for yourself.

Anyhow, let’s move on to dear Sarah Palin. I’ve been listening intently to all of the precious few interviews in the past weeks, and surmise that she, like Dubya, has a less-than-presidential grasp of the English language, and the cutesy dialect she has is amply irritating to bear witness to. I’m sorry, if you’re going to speak on this level, please speak correctly. It seems like every other word out of her mouth is truncated with the ” ‘in “… “Workin, learnin’, spendin’, travelin’, campaignin’, knowin’, runnin’, helpin'” and so on.

I won’t even get into her apparent tattooed lipliner, the excessive makeup, the too-perfect hair and posture, and her complete lack of “knowlidge” of the world and domestic stage…

Time for work… but dontchya think maybe like she’s like, totally unfit to be in y’know, high pol’tics? “Regular Folks”, in their right mind, wouldn’t even want to be there….

Just under the wire for a year elapsed since my last post. Of course, there have been plenty-o-action on the adventures-of blog, so lay off, ok?

Honestly, I kind of forgot that this blog was even here. I would love to think that I would have ample time to post stuff, because hot damn is there stuff going on – mostly for the greater good, thankfully.

Anyhow, not sure how many of you are linked up to this via RSS feeds and what not, but a show of hands might actually convince me to blather on!

Now, how many times have I vowed to update my g*log more often over the years? Feh.. who knows. Falling short of making another promise to keep you informed I shall offer this: Life has been NUTS since we last sat and talked. Nuts, mostly in the best ways possible, that is. It’s safe to say that instead of pining time in front of the computer, I’ve been out and about and experiencing lots of life-changes.

Let’s see. There was the stint traveling in Europe this past summer, Petra and I got engaged last winter, married in September on the Cape, and then two weeks after that hopped in the ’73 VW THING and drove to San Francisco (where we got engaged) via a somewhat circuitous route (see the adventure here).

I type this now from our new flat in the Noe Valley neighborhood of vibrant San Francisco – yes, we picked up and moved here, and are just starting to settle in. The house is sweet, with a two-car garage, a driveway, and a back yard with terrace and a big lemon tree, and a few of the rooms still resemble a warehouse with all the boxes piled up.

This is all I have time for now – and maybe.. JUST MAYBE, I’ll carve out some time in the near or distant future to post some more – no promises, though.

We’ve had a few splendid moonrises as of late… This one I snapped just as I got off the highway heading home from an afternoon of mountain biking up in NH. I like the alignment of the street lamp, moon, and oncoming car. Need to travel with a tripod more often though.

Each outing with the new camera yields better results, should be up to speed super-soon.

Speaking of moonrises, last night I surprised Petra with a trip up to Plum Island, in Newburyport, MA for an evening picnic involving take-out Thai food, a bottle of petite syrah, sparklers and a desolate beach by moonlight. Those are all the details you get.